


Organics Have the Right Idea Sometimes

by Anonymous



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Insecurity, Internalized Transphobia, Neopronouns, Nonbinary Character, Positive Use of the Word Queer, Pre-MTMTE #45, Self-Discovery, Self-Hatred, Transphobia, but not from the scavs or the cassettes of course, kind of?, like actual transphobia, maybe? - Freeform, mean internet strangers ahead, oof this is actually sort of hard for me to write, they're allies, this is cathartic for me and a lot of venting tbh, this is written from experience!!! the author is nonbinary!!!, transgender character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-23
Updated: 2019-05-23
Packaged: 2020-03-06 05:23:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18844492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Fulcrum, gender, and a journey of self-discovery.





	Organics Have the Right Idea Sometimes

**Author's Note:**

> oof this is really just a fic bc i wanted to write a nonbinary tf character and i picked fulcrum bc i love him. also! i used he/him pronouns for fulcurm in the first chapter but that will change later!

Admittedly, Fulcrum had always been weirded out by being called a “mech.” He had, of course, never thought much of it. War had never allowed such luxuries and he hadn’t been around _before_ the War either.

However, now that the war was over, he found himself thinking on it more often than not, mostly in the “this makes my tanks churn” way. He doesn’t say anything about it though. There was nothing else a Cybertronian could be other than a mech.

The feeling of discomfort lingers with him, even as he goes on his adventures with the Scavengers, even as he finds other distractions. It seems that now that he was aware of the itch he couldn’t ignore it, he had to scratch it.

He doesn’t actively seek anything out. The Big Conversation isn’t the best for finding answers and he doesn’t expect any anyway. He’s an anomaly. A freak, if anything. There’s nothing to find other than to note that Fulcrum isn’t right in the helm.

He logs onto the site to troll the forums. It’s an amusing pastime, to antagonize ‘Cons he never would be able to otherwise.

When he taps the forum titled “organic genders,” he intends to make a mean comment and leave. The forum isn’t what he expected.

It’s a tiny space, barely more than twenty members total, but it’s filled with comments and insight. None of them are really about organics like he expected. Instead, the forum is a flood of words and terms he doesn’t understand, words like “trans” and “nonbinary” and “queer.” The first sentence reads, “Ever feel out of place?”

Before he can read anything, his datapad pings, alerting him to a new comment on the forum. Interest more than piqued, he scrolls down, only to see words that make his tanks churn for reasons he can’t quite explain.

“lol you guys are really using organic genders?” the comment reads, words rude and not at all kind. Fulcrum can see that they’re trying to imply something.

The moderator of the forum, a rumblezz, replies, “what of it?”

“nothing just you know that you’re all sick right?”

The words are barely on Fulcrum’s screen for a second before the comments are deleted and the user is banned. Still, it leaves a lump in Fulcrum’s throat, like no matter what he does he’ll never be able to swallow again.

Despite that, curiosity burns in his spark. He wants to know what this all means, why it hurts so much. He types, with all the tact he can, “You use organic genders?” then decides that it's too close to the last comment for comfort. He deletes it and starts again. “Organic genders?” is short and simple but not enough. It isn’t everything he wants to say.

He doesn’t get the comment down, just stares at the screen and reads into the early hours of the morning. His optics sear the words “I use she/her now!” and “so what if I’m not a mech?” and “it turns out I’m genderfluid” into his processor. He soaks them up like they are water and he is dying in the desert.

Hours later, when he thinks he gets it but not completely, he finally knows what he wants to say. “What does being trans mean? And nonbinary? Is there a difference? And what about genderqueer and genderfluid?” he asks, hungry for knowledge, for something.

His datapad lights up as someone deigns to give him answers.


End file.
